


In Love Worlds Afar

by MyrJuhl



Series: In Love Worlds Afar [1]
Category: Lawless (2012), The Sleeping Dictionary (2003)
Genre: Adult Content, Angst, British Actors - Freeform, Crossover, Drama, F/M, First Time, Forrest Bondurant to appear later in the series., Graphic Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Lactation, M/M, Male Breast Feeding, Minor Character Death, Nipple Play, Period Piece, Spoiler Alert - Freeform, Voyeurism, light kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:03:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4274511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyrJuhl/pseuds/MyrJuhl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An idealistic young man joins the British Colony of Borneo in the 1930’s believing he’s there to contribute making the place better for the native Ibans. Unwillingly, John Truscott’s paired with a local girl who’s going to teach him about the customs of the Iban people in an unusual way. John has to deal with not just her but other unexpected suitors on top of dealing with the tedious British governor and his family.</p><p>When his personal boundaries are overstepped, John decides to return to England. However, his plane is forced to make an emergency landing in rural Virginia of all places. Moon shining is thriving and the Bondurant brothers housing him, until he can get home, are on top of the game in that regard. John finds himself helplessly drawn to one of the brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Love Worlds Afar

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's notes:**
> 
> \- Spoiler Alert. Lots of it. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** These events never happened. This fic is for entertainment purposes only, not profit. I, the author, make no claim through this work as to the fictitious characters/ actual lives/ preferences/ activities of the people mentioned herein.
> 
> Beta: None. Let me know if there are any inconsistencies.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

It was the year 1932 when the British Empire still extended over vast areas of the globe. It was a time when young men finished their education by serving as administrators in distant lands. Twenty six year old John Truscott was one of them. Following in his late father’s footsteps, John arrived in Borneo full of eagerness to help execute his father’s plan to bring education to the Iban people. Before John was born, his father had been an officer in Borneo, but he was killed in the war before he had a chance to bring his preparations to life.

Sitting on the biggest of his suitcases in Sarawak’s harbour, John’s body was full of apprehension when nobody seemed to have come to pick him up. He tried to get the attention of anyone who could help him, when suddenly he noticed a face emerge from underneath the far end of the boardwalk. Now, he’d travelled with several exotic people from various places of the planet to reach Borneo, but still the man gave him a fright when he smoothly hopped up and showed himself. John gulped. The young warrior was covered in tattoos and he wore little clothing like other men John had already seen on his travel to Borneo via Singapore.

Boldly, he came forward and John slowly got up from his suitcase.

“Good morning, Truscott,” he greeted him in perfect English. “I am Belansai.”

John shook his hand even if he couldn't quite grasp what he was hearing and still looking at the magnificent savaged individual.

After the short introduction, Belansai took John with him in his boat and they sailed to his village. It was a beautiful country that John had a chance to experience in this fashion with parrots and small apes living along the river and in the trees.

Finally, they reached their destination, and John was met by Mr. Rodney Bullard.

“I am the British governor of the district including Belansai’s village.”

John nodded and they shook hands. “How do you do.”

“Good, good.” Then the man asked Belansai a question in the native tongue. Belansai ran his eyes approvingly over John’s frame, where after he said something that made both men laugh at John’s expense.

John was sure they made fun of him, but he shrugged it off. Belansai repeated the small motion and John couldn't help shudder. He couldn’t explain why he did it. He didn’t feel threatened and chose not to linger over that either. 

Mr. Bullard huffed off the last bit of laughter and added, “Belansai will be the head man of his Longhouse in two years.”

John assumed it was huge deal so he just smiled. Then Mr. Bullard took John the rest of the way to his bungalow in a car with two oxen pulling the load of the vehicle. The man listened to his idealistic reasons for coming here. John wasn’t in Borneo just for that, but was going to perform his administrative duties as well. Mr. Bullard wasn’t opposed to John’s wishes to make the effort of educating all the children, but he did find it laughable.

After arriving to his bungalow, Mr. Bullard informed him that John was invited to his local Longhouse tomorrow, and then left John flabbergasted in the hands of the intimidating but brilliant cook Fashion. Mr. Bullard hadn’t informed him of anything substantial yet, and John didn’t know what his actual job would consist of. With a bit of luck, he would get wiser in the morning.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

The next day, Belansai came and fetched John to sail him to his village.

“I hope you’ll enjoy the invitation, Truscott,” Belansai said, and John chuckled behind him.

“I’m sure that I will. I look forward to meeting everyone.” 

“Oh, you will, Truscott. _Everybody_ will be there,” Belansai promised mirthfully.

Realising exactly what he’d just requested, John gulped. “How many are there?” he asked.

Belansai just laughed.

John liked talking to the man when they collaborated rowing the slim boat. There was something alluring about the way Belansai’s muscles worked under the tattoos. Those were personal tattoos, probably telling stories of what he’d achieved so far. John couldn’t help feeling thrilled what those achievements could have been about, but he shouldn’t stare too much at Belansai’s back. He’d been told off by his mother having been staring at other people all his life. But John couldn’t help thinking people were fascinating.

It was hot and John was sweating in his proper dress code. He wondered what it would feel like to be half naked like Belansai, walking bare foot instead of wearing long woollen socks and shoes. But Mr. Bullard would probably find that laughable, too.

Before he knew it, they had arrived and the villagers were everywhere, chatting and laughing like pretty birds’ song. John was fascinated and overloaded with impressions. They stepped inside the Longhouse that was already filled with people. Belansai introduced him to an old man sitting at the end of the building.

“John Truscott, this is my father, Melaka. Head man of this Longhouse.” 

John nodded with a big smile. Then Melaka was his head man as well. He stuck out his hand and the old man shook it. He was invited to sit down in front of Melaka, and Belansai sat next to his father. After this honourable introduction, John sensed the rest of the village behind him. Everyone was there and that notion was impressive. A pretty girl came forward with a solid round wooden tray. Wooden cups containing liquid were placed in it and Belansai pointed.

“Rice wine.”

Conflicted and already worried he was going to do the wrong thing, John stuttered, “Um... I can’t drink on duty.” But he already was doing the wrong thing.

“To refuse would be an insult,” Belansai said, and John saw the little smirk exchanged between father and son.

Very well, then. John could be a good sport when he chose to, and he believed this was a wise time to be a good sport. Melaka took a cup as well and they drank. 

The drink hit his system and John had never had anything this strong and was shocked, while still trying to maintain his composure. With amusement, Belansai approved and John gasped a couple of times, before he could finally breathe again. Then another pretty girl came with a new tray of rice wine...

It didn’t take long for the entire village to get sloshed in an uplifted party mood spiced with a healthy dose of laughter.

Amongst the entertaining entries was an element of ‘pass it around’. The person who had entertained would pass on a necklace to the next. One lady did a poorly disguised parody of Mr. Bullard, who apparently thought of himself as the local god. Belansai explained that it was a old tribal dance, but John was not fooled. Everybody else was laughing heartily. More enticing dances were performed by the beautiful girls, and John was entranced right until the necklace was passed to him.

Trying to slip out of it was in vain and John had no clue what to do. Everybody was looking expectantly at him. Helplessly he turned to Belansai next to him.

“You could give us a song? Or a dance,” Belansai suggested. “A poem? Or perhaps all three of them?”

John was so drunk on rice wine that he could barely get up on his own, when he decided to just go ahead. Hopefully, something ingenious would strike him at the right moment. The pregnant silence was palpable and John looked around with droopy eyes, before he recited a depressing poem of war. The Ibans had no clue what he was talking about and so there was no immediate reaction. Resolutely, John stepped forward, grabbed Belansai’s hand, and pulled him to his feet. Belansai was half a head shorter than John was, and it was easy to manipulate him into a dancing position.

Immediately, the Ibans began laughing at the strange spectacle as the two men began to tango around the Longhouse. Belansai was stiff in his arms at first, but then he was having as much fun as the rest. Then suddenly from one moment to the other, everybody stopped their carousing and confused, John turned to Belansai.

“What happened?”

“The dancing is over. We go home now and sleep.”

John’s only reaction was to stumble outside and vomit from the nearest porch, where after he passed out.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

During the night, some of the Iban warriors went upriver, attacked some Chinese anglers, and cut off their heads as spoils of war. John was confronted with this deed by a visit from Mr. Bullard when he was sitting on his porch after a small argument with his cook Fashion. The man had turned out to be a pathetic underachiever.

The governor insisted that John showed the guilty men his authority and made them bring forth the heads. John would then bring the heads to Mr. Bullard as evidence. John dreaded how he could achieve that. This would be his first taste of how diplomatically difficult this job was going to be. 

Then a girl showed up at his premises. John recognised her as being the first girl to serve him rice wine the night before.

“Good evening, John Truscott.”

Apprehensively, John got up as he watched the stunningly beautiful girl as she also greeted Mr. Bullard.

“This is Selima. She will do wife duties for you.”

John looked stupidly at the both of them. He didn’t get it. 

“I sleep with you. I’m moving in,” she said and did indeed carry a basket containing her belongings against her hip.

John looked at her confused as she entered his home. 

“But... Why? I mean... this is my home,” John said, objecting hesitantly to both the governor and the girl.

“She’s a Sleeping Dictionary. You need to learn our language faster, and you’re not getting any better, are you?” Mr. Bullard said.

“I am trying.”

“Trying is not fast enough. You need me,” Selima stated seductively coming out again. Her basket now set aside inside.

“You can’t govern a people if you can’t speak the language,” Mr. Bullard said, and he had a point there.

John wasn’t convinced that he actually _needed_ her, but Selima wouldn’t leave, and Mr. Bullard clearly expected him to give in. John let her stay albeit she slept in the other bedroom. Regardless of his age, John had never been with a girl before, and the encounter was a borderline experience for him. The girl was everything John wasn’t: exotic, free spirited, and overwhelming. She seemed to have the answer to everything there was to know about what a relationship and sex between men and women were supposed to be. 

Fashion warned him that Selima would get angry if he didn’t sleep with her, but John was mostly outraged by the whole concept of a Sleeping Dictionary.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

After the little talk with Mr. Bullard, John had to retrieve the cut off heads trophy from Belansai and his men.

He did get a bag of something all right, but the amusement that came from it warned John that something wasn’t accurate. As it turned out, the bag was full of monkey heads – not China men. John tried to be stern with the merry gathering, but failed in his awkward way of handling the teasing from everybody. Not to mention that the thought of even seeing these poor dead Chinese, made his stomach turn.

“We made a joke on you,” Belansai explained. John thought maybe it was about time he made a joke on them.

“Very funny. I hear that you were the champion at under water battles... when you were young...” 

Belansai frowned. “When I was young? I’m still the champion of ten Longhouses!”

John smiled. “Oh yes. They say you can beat any girl on the river.”

The look on Belansai’s face was priceless and John had a challenge on his hands. Quickly, he whispered something in Selima's ear and the girl disappeared shortly. 

A big long case clock was pulled down to the landing by the shore and as usual, the entire village came to view the spectacle. Selima was back and John was ready for the challenge.

John and Belansai would jump into the small lake by the village and keep their heads under water. The one who had to return to the surface first to breathe had lost.

Immediately, Belansai put on his default expression of amused superiority. John smiled with a small shrug, but he knew he would win this. Quickly, John took off his clothes until he was only dressed in his knee long khaki shorts, and then both men jumped into the water. The shouts of encouragement immediately reached out to them both; some rooting for John, but most expecting Belansai to win this challenge.

For a while, there was nothing to be seen for the audience but just when worry began to paint their faces, Belansai came up, gasping hard for air. Shock was visible on his face, when he was told that John had not come up yet. Worry was even more apparent until John finally appeared after nine minutes under water showing no signs of any distress. His tremendous achievement got himself a big applause from the people who relieved came down to congratulate him. 

“How did you do that?” Belansai was astounded as he waded closer to John to shake his hand. His expression showed how truly impressed he was. John knew he hadn’t won fair, but then Belansai had happily ridiculed him with the false heads. John showed him the cylinder of oxygen he’d used, and Belansai was thrilled by how much smarter John had been when besting him. 

The Chinamen heads were brought forth eventually, and relieved John could give them to Mr. Bullard.

“This is excellent work, Truscott. Now I only need you to put the same work hours into learning the language. How is Selima’s education carrying on?”

John didn’t know what to say. So far, it wasn’t carrying on. Learning the language was like pulling teeth. He had to make a better effort.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

Then his cook Fashion introduced a feminine looking young man. “Maybe you like? This is Ti Hou. He also Sleeping Dictionary,” Fashion said, insinuating with lots of gestures and eye winking.

It took John several seconds to catch up and was horrified that Fashion even implied that John would rather have sex with the boy. This went beyond any normal limits John had. Even if he had acknowledged to himself that he could have been interested, he did under no circumstances want another person to point it out for him. Therefore, there was only one thing he could do about it. Denial.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

The girl pushed him to give in. Several days went by before John finally agreed to even touch her, and it didn’t come naturally to him. He’d had honestly never even fantasised about this moment, although he did have vague ideas of what it could be like compared to when he masturbated. John knew he was supposed to wanting it, but girls never entered his little sexual fantasies, when he got off by himself. Some of his peers and friends had spoiled him with graphic details of their many amorous dalliances. John never returned the favour. He had never understood what the allure with girls was all about. Trying to imagine what it would be like had he agreed to take Ti Hou to his bed made it even worse. Being homeschooled all his life, John’s lack of sexual imagination was appalling.

The first time John had sex with Selima was embarrassing. John didn’t know where to put his hands or what to do about hers, when they went on their exhilarating little excursions all over his body. Selima had explained to him that this was the Iban way of teaching young foreigner’s their language and customs much quicker, if they lived with a native speaking partner. John couldn't disagree on that point but it sure was an unconventional method. Afterwards, he couldn’t imagine ever telling a soul about what he did with the girl. He felt like an amateur because nothing about the experience had made a deep impact on him. Sex with a girl – even as experienced as Selima apparently was - was underrated. John knew he had nothing to compare with, but he was still quite sure that this was not what he could have expected.

The following night it all started again, and John understood that this was something he wasn’t in control of. In a sense, it had nothing to do with what he wanted. Selima was quite insistent and any attempt at trying to say no to her advances was not a variable. But once he got used to her style and body parts, he found that he didn’t mind making her feel good. He just went by her sounds. Still, in actuality, he was only following orders, and stopped being so proper with his good manners, as she liked to taunt him about. 

After every three nights in a row, she would always return to her own bedroom. If they stayed together one night longer, the Iban would regard them as engaged... and neither was interested in that. After that, another three nights in a row.

At some point, John wondered if this was love. He liked her sparkly personality and moody whims just fine, but he hadn't been in love before, so he couldn’t be sure what he felt. At the same time, he wondered if Selima was in love with him at all, or if she just liked bossing him around. He had to remember that this was a business arrangement. Somehow it made it easier. 

But hey, at least John wasn’t a virgin anymore.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

One afternoon when John came home, Fashion’s feminine boyfriend Ti Hou had come by with a baby on his arm. Selima was obviously in love with the pretty child, and John couldn’t blame her. He wondered who the child belonged to. He was certain that men who preferred men had a wife to get a child by. And then something strange happened. The child began to cry impatiently, and the young man put the baby to his breast. John squinted and couldn't quite believe what he was witnessing. Suckling noises came from the baby’s mouth, and confused John looked at Selima who just nodded.

John watched again and saw a trickle of milk escape the baby’s tiny mouth.

“He is a man, correct?” John asked just to make sure.

Selima nodded and smiled. “Yes, John Truscott. He is man.”

“But... How is that possible?”

“You can do anything you set your mind to.”

“Well, yes. Within reason... no this is impossible!”

“Boys don't have to be pregnant to make milk for babies. Britons are ignorant people,” Selima said.

John looked at the young man. He had no breasts, but he did have puffier areolas than the average man.

John had to look away. The sight did funny things to his stomach.

“Boys make milk when they want to.”

“When they want to?”

“It takes a little practice, but then it happens. Ti Hou help lots of girls if they have no milk,” Fashion said, ogling Ti Hou with obvious pleasure.

“Amongst other... social... duties...” John added astounded.

“Sleeping Dictionary,” Selima said.

“That, too...” John said, “And he wants to?”

“Yes,” she replied dreamily. “Who would not feed a baby?”

John cleared his voice; he was definitely not amongst those who wanted to breast feed a baby, but knowing that men could be stimulated to produce milk profoundly impressed him. “Does that fact that he...” John nodded at Fashion, “prefers men, have anything to do with this.... ability?” he asked Selima.

“No. Every man can do this. But those who want to are rare.” Selima looked pointedly at John. Very pointedly.

“Yes...” John said, but then he realised that Selima probably wanted a child with him, and a feeling close to terror rushed through his body. Keenly he felt how much he did _not_ want a baby with her. He didn’t want to marry Selima and give her a child. And he most certainly didn’t want to learn how to breast feed that child. Any child. No matter how adorable they were like the one Ti Hou was nursing.

It was a collision he was helpless to escape and the question forced its way out of his mouth. “And... you want...?” 

But Selima just shrugged delicately. “Maybe.”

Suddenly, John’s neck prickled and when he turned he knew he had been watched. He was certain he saw Belansai ducking out of sight a fraction of a second too late. How strange.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

The next few days, John noticed several times how Belansai watched him when he was with Selima. John wondered what was wrong with that picture. When John tried to catch his friend’s eye, the young man would look away. Those weren’t the best terms for John to confront him about it. Even when the two friends spent time together, John hesitated from mentioning it. If Belansai himself didn’t want to address what was the cause for his scrutiny, John was too much of a gentleman to force him. Eventually, he derived a conclusion and couldn’t get any other solution than that Belansai was jealous and certainly in love with the girl. Only he was too proud to act on it.

Having discovered that, John finally saw his own situation clearer. It was becoming increasingly apparent that he had no desire to continue using Selima's educational talents. He decided to break the arrangement, and give Belansai the chance to woe Selima. Surely, it would be easier if John wasn’t in the picture anymore. And as far as he knew Iban customs, they wouldn’t allow Belansai to make his move as long as Selima was John’s Sleeping Dictionary. That’s how John interpreted it anyway.

Selima was furious with John when he told her, 

“Is it because of the baby? You were strange when you saw Ti Hou with the baby.”

Stunned, she’d figured that out without them even taking about it, John quickly denied it, “No.... I don’t mind babies... I just don't think I’m the right person for you.”

“You don't make that decision, John Truscott. I hired you! Remember? I don't hire just anyone. I will never hire you again.”

“I’m aware of that.” John sighed. Thank god they had been strict about the length of time they slept together. John could have risked being married to her by now and poor Belansai!

However, he didn’t have a better explanation why he broke their arrangement. He couldn't blow Belansai's cover, before the young man had had a chance to address his interest to Selima himself. John's vague responses of doing the proper thing only incensed her even further. He was Belansai's friend and in spite of the little bit of fascination he had for the girl, it wasn't any heart ship of his to stop seeing her. She left his bungalow the same afternoon. John couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such relief.

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John went and saw Mr. Bullard at his home to inform him about his decision. He interrupted the Bullard’s dinner and the two men went outside.

"Mr. Bullard... I'm going to stop having Miss Selima stay in my house. I think I'll be all right on my own by now."

"Oh..." Mr. Bullard had a funny expression on his face. "You did seem rather infatuated by her, Truscott."

"Well, yes. I was thrown by her company at first but I grew to like her in time," John said, feeling like he owed it to Selima to defend her.

"I was worried that you might fall in love with the girl. She's not for you."

"But she could have been?"

"Nah. She's been a Sleeping Dictionary all her youth. Like her mother," Mr. Bullard added wistfully.

"Her mother?" John repeated, almost not believing what he just heard. "Like mother like daughter? It's like inherited prostitution!" 

Mr. Bullard shrugged at John's emotional display. "She's my daughter. Her mother was my Sleeping Dictionary when I came here."

"But how can you accept this for your own child?"

"Grow up, Truscott. They're only savages. It’s been working for centuries."

"Jesus..." John said.

John was still gaping when the rotund man turned and went inside his house. Mr. Bullard had been the very same to send Selima to John's bungalow. His own daughter! John simply had no words for how much that bit of knowledge disgusted him. He didn’t care if this was the custom of the Ibans, because they hadn’t always been subjected to the British colonials. So this custom must have been introduced to deal with the cultural and language clash that came from these encounters. John was embarrassed and appalled by the Bullard’s view of the girl. He understood that neither Mrs. Bullard nor Selima knew that Mr. Bullard was the girl’s father.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

A few weeks went by where John just concentrated on doing his job and not pay so much attention to the gossip of the village. If he had paid attention from day one, he would have heard that the Bullard’s daughter Cecil was on her way to Borneo and eventually she had arrived. John only learned that when he got the actual information by Cecil's mother to pick up her daughter and bring her to the village.

The young woman was smiling and charming. She brought with her the ignorant air of Imperial Britain and made several insulting mistakes, when she thrust her interest at the people. John cringed on her behalf, but he didn't know if he should make her aware of this. She wasn't his problem, and he might end up insulting her.

Something else became apparent for John. Belansai began sending the same inexplicable glances at John when he was in Cecil's company. John ignored them this time. There was nothing to give up regarding Miss Bullard. He was clearly not involved with her and Belansai ought to see that. John wasn't going to ask why because it was easier to just not care about matters of other people’s hearts. Still the intense staring was unnerving since Belansai didn’t even try to disguise it anymore when John caught him doing it. The stare sent shudders down his spine; he didn't know what to make of any of it.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

A few evenings later, the Bullard’s had invited John for dinner, which he accepted because there wasn't much of local entertainment that he wanted to take part in any longer.

When he sat next to Cecil, she was all smiles and flirtation and John felt increasingly uncomfortable by her blatant interest.

"Are you engaged to someone back at home?" Cecil asked seemingly innocently.

"No. That was an indisputable part of the contract. I was not allowed to be engaged before I came here," John answered staring at Mr. Bullard who sat across from him at the dinner table.

"Oh," Cecil responded as if this was news to her. "Well, anyone you've..."

"Look..." John interrupted but a second later, he realised what was happening in front of his very own eyes. The Bullard’s were trying getting him and Cecil hitched. They wanted their 'real' daughter married off to someone like John. From the beginning, they knew they'd bring Cecil over; the clause for John's non-engaged status just another piece to the puzzle.

Exasperated, John removed the hand that had found its way to his thigh. Getting up, he excused himself and gently dropped the cloth napkin on his chair.

"Good night. I need some air."

Mr. Bullard got up and went after him.

"What’s the bloody matter? Everything was going so well!" he said annoyed.

"Yes. For you, I'm sure. Cecil is like a sister. And I'm sorry, but I couldn’t marry my sister. Even you know that's illegal-"

"But she's not your sister."

"That wasn't my point, Mr. Bullard, but nice try. I think I need the rethink my options in Borneo. Thanks for the evening."

Quickly, John left, ignoring what Mr. Bullard was shouting after him.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

As he went home, John analysed what he'd just said about Cecil, and how he felt. He hadn't liked her touch. He'd felt offended by it. Not about the fact that she dared to be so brave in trying to excite him, but he hadn't wanted her. He’d felt no desire at all. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why it was different from when Selima made her aggressive move, but it was.

Those horny girls. John chuckled a little because it was rather incredible that no matter where you were on the planet, girls would be coming on to men no matter what part of society they were. Savaged or civilised. The flesh would betray even the best mannered lady.

And men.

Belansai was the exception. John had more than once in the months he'd spent in Sarawak interrupted a heated coupling here and there. But as he went home, he became aware of the fact that he'd never seen Belansai actually be with a woman or even boasting about a conquest. He paused and took in the information. Something else came to mind that John should have noticed right away. Belansai hadn’t yet made a move towards Selima since John stopped sleeping with her. He found it odd. The young man should have taken the opportunity a long time ago. Instead, he still looked inscrutably at John. Whatever the cause, the memory of his intense eyes still sent those shudders down John’s spine, making the hairs stand on his arms, and the feelings weren’t particularly unpleasant.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

Maybe it had been a big mistake coming here. John didn’t feel as adventurous anymore as he had initially, and thought that the realistic move from then on would be returning back to England. As a considerate gesture, he could bring Cecil with him simply because she stuck out like a sore thumb; just as out of place here as John felt. That was all. Just the proper thing to do, because there was no point in letting her think he was husband material for her.

John gave his resignation to Mr. Bullard the next day. His decision was finalised. 

"Mr. Truscott. Do I have to remind you of your duty to king and country? It is improper - even spineless to abandon your work before..."

"I was supposed to stay here for a while longer, but we both know it's not going to happen. I did not come out here to be manipulated by beautiful savages and especially not imported debutants from England. I wouldn't have had to travel that far, if that was my intent, Mr. Bullard. Sir."

For once the governor stood speechless.

"Would you kindly wire a message telling I'm leaving the country?" John said and left the man's porch. Not even an hour later, a boy came to his bungalow with a telegram. There was a boat ready for Singapore already the next day. Cecil was not travelling home with him.

The Ibans surprised him with a farewell celebration in the Longhouse in the evening. He hadn’t thought they’d care, but some seemed genuinely sorry to see him go. Selima was nowhere to be seen, but Belansai was and John saw several emotions flitter over the young man’s face that evening. He seemed angry in a frustrated way. Then it could also just be the alcohol in John’s system that played a trick on him.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

A little unsteady, John returned to his quarters late that night and was surprised to find Belansai squatting on the porch there.

“Good night,” he said. 

Belansai looked at him thoughtfully and replied, “Good night, Truscott.”

John stepped onto the porch and Belansai got on his feet in one smooth motion. John looked at him but the Iban didn’t say anything to elaborate why he was there.

“Do you... want to come in? I’m afraid I can’t offer you anything at this point since... you know...”

“I just want a word,” Belansai said calmly.

“Well, finally,” John said. All this secrecy and spying business had better be explained before he left tomorrow. “All right, come on in then.” John stepped inside the bungalow with Belansai following silently.

“So...” John said and turned to face Belansai.

Belansai smiled and with his head indicated the direction of John’s small bedroom.

John frowned not understanding what Belansai meant. “What are you...?”

“Go to your bedroom, John Truscott. There is something I need to show you.”

“Are you... is there something unsettled between us?” John asked unsure if this was more serious than he initially thought.

“We’ll see,” Belansai said patiently, still not willing to give away any clues to his late night visit.

To John’s surprise, Belansai went to sit on John’s bed. “Come and join me,” he said and patted the mattress. “You’re leaving us, John Truscott. Were you not happy here?” Belansai asked when John sat down.

John laughed and shook his head slowly. “No. Not lately. I was in love for a while. I think... But Belansai... I wanted to give you the opportunity to get closer to Selima. I saw how you looked at her,” John said knowingly and cocked his head.

Belansai laughed quietly. “John Truscott. You are dense – even by British standards. You only saw what you thought was happening.”

“How do you mean?” John asked, laughing, too.

“If I wanted to get closer to Selima I could have done that years ago,” Belansai said.

“Oh... But... Yes. I noticed that.”

“And it wasn’t Selima I watched. It was you, John Truscott.”

The smile disappeared slowly from John’s face. “Me?” he asked literally pointing at his own chest. “What’s so interesting about me? Why would you watch me?”

“You really can’t tell?” Belansai replied.

“No... I can’t,” John said slowly, as it simultaneously dawned on him what Belansai implied. “I’m not like that,” he laughed embarrassed. “I’m... not like Ti Hou.”

“Don’t you realise how many times you’ve been staring at me throughout all these months? You have this freshly infatuated look about yourself.”

“I do not,” John denied immediately even though he knew Belansai might be right in some of it, and it thrilled him as goosebumps erupted all over his body.

“So sure you enjoy bossy little girls that you don't even acknowledge the mature ones?”

“What do you mean, Belansai?” John asked, feeling oddly lightheaded but not offended by the implication he knew was coming.

“You should take comfort in a man’s body. Not silly girls’.”

“This doesn’t make any sense, Belansai. How do you...”

“Sex, Truscott. Try having sex with a man who knows what a man’s body needs. Not try fulfilling the whims of girls.”

“Selima knew...” John had to stress, his mouth was so dry as he watched Belansai’s lips move with speech. Adrenaline was taking over his body making him shake.

“Selima can be cruel and never hesitates to go for what _she_ wants. She would have left you sooner or later no matter how much in love you thought the two of you were.”

John slowly exhaled. He hadn’t realised he’d stopped breathing.

“What a time to throw a revelation in my face, Belansai.”

“I would like to show you what it can be like, Truscott.”

“And why would I accept?”

“Because you will regret it when you go back to your boring life in proper England,” Belansai mocked. “I can give you an experience you’ll never forget and maybe you won’t want to leave after all.”

John scoffed. Where was the outrage he’d felt when Fashion had introduced Ti Hou back then? It must be the rice wine taking away his inhibitions. “I think I can live without the experience. Two men are not supposed to lie together,” he said.

Belansai smiled. “Says who?”

“Says... it’s against...”

“Truscott. Forget about what _other_ people or old dusty books preach you cannot allow yourself to do in private.”

“And that includes you, my friend,” John wrapped up and began to undress. He cast measured glances Belansai’s way but the Iban just watched him with a small humorous smile.

“Enjoying the show?” John asked and received a laugh.

“Yes. You’re very handsome, John Truscott. Beautiful.”

“Men are not beautiful,” John argued.

“You are,” Belansai said.

Belansai got up and stood in front of John and put his hands on his shoulders. The pull was instantaneous and John wrapped his arms around Belansai’s warm body and, with a sigh, he rubbed his cheek against his hard stomach. “Yes...” he sighed.

“Good...” Belansai answered quietly.

“Say I thought this was worth exploring. What exactly is it that you want to do with me?”

Belansai grabbed John’s face and they shared a heated look. “I would pull off the rest of your clothes and pleasure you with my mouth and hands.”

“Selima did these things to me already,” John pointed out.

Belansai nodded and a smirk appeared on his face. “And then I would pleasure you with my cock.”

John gasped hearing such a blunt offer. “Right. All right.”

Belansai laughed when John held on to him when he motioned to step out of his confinement.

“Don’t worry. I would never do anything you didn’t ask me to do.”

“What could that possibly be? I’ve heard it is painful.”

“Sure. When soldiers do it to each other in the trenches of war. There is no time for finesse. Fellatio never hurt anybody, though.”

“Finesse? I suppose not. But you have time for finesse?”

“And fellatio,” Belansai chuckled and pushed John back to lie on the bed.

Crawling over him, he sat down on John’s thighs and finished undressing him. Then he loosened his loincloth and they were naked. Belansai got up and let his hands wander up John’s sides.

“I watched you, because you’re the one I wanted. Not Selima,” Belansai clarified and tightened his hands to make John understand the urgency of his words.

“Then everything makes sense. I’ve been so very blind, my friend. About you and about myself,” John confessed. He looked into Belansai’s dark eyes and was drawn by the intensity he found in them. “I want this,” he finally admitted. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“You are who you are, John Truscott. You have probably wanted this all your life. Even before you knew what it was.”

“I’ve never allowed myself to...” John stopped. It was so new and Belansai was the first man he’d been attracted to – even when he hadn’t realised it.

Belansai leaned down and kissed John. His cock pushed against John’s and the Brit gasped excitedly, and pushed up his hips to add the pressure between them. The friction they created quickly sent John into a spiralling pleasurable haze, and uncontrollably he moaned for Belansai. John hugged him close and hard as he eagerly chased Belansai’s tongue in his mouth. John had never dreamed he’d be able to feel such intensity. Belansai was engaging and took the initiative when he took hold of both their cocks.

John cried out ecstatically and Belansai laughed at him and let go of them. Slinking down, he was level with John’s cock and took it into his mouth. Bending his neck, John tried to look. Only when he got up on his elbow did he have a view of what Belansai did to him.

The young man looked at John through his eyelashes and bobbed his head up and down.

“It’s...” John tried to say, but Belansai probably knew John was enjoying himself.

Belansai let go of him with a wet pop. He kissed and licked his way around John’s buttocks and balls before he came dangerously close to his anus.

“Be-Belansai... you probably shouldn’t,” John said, but then he giggled. Why did he think he could make Belansai not do what he’d obviously set his mind to?

Slowly, Belansai let his tongue circle John’s opening. John tried to imagine what it looked like down there for the Iban. It felt nice in a way right up until something poked to gain entrance.

“Belansai...” John tried to protest but giving up, he just lay back down on his back. “Fine then...” Long fingers began to move inside him one at the time. The sounds they produced were strangely squishy and he suspected Belansai had come prepared. John didn’t care. He was in that happy place when he was still drunk and acute aware of what was happening.

“Sit up, Truscott,” Belansai said after a while; his voice betrayed how excited he was being with John. 

As John got up on his knees, he found Belansai now on his back. “I want you to hover over me and then... slowly sink down.” John did as Belansai said and understood the connection right away.

“You want me to take you inside my body?”

“Yes, Truscott. If you would kindly,” Belansai replied and they grinned at each other.

John boldly grabbed Belansai’s cock and liked the feel of the hard flesh in his hand. Belansai felt slippery, oily, and John began to descend. Initially, he expected there to the pain he’d heard about, but there wasn’t much discomfort to be had. A bit of a pinch, a slight burn, and then...

John’s eyes rolled back when he was seated completely and his arse cheeks touched Belansai’s thighs. “All in...” he announced and looked at Belansai whose hands reached up and ran firmly over his chest, his stomach, and finally his cock.

“Move, John Truscott. Move up and down,” Belansai instructed.

John eagerly began a rhythm and a shout of shocked surprise came from him when he discovered his prostate. “Oooohhh... my... god...” John moaned.

“Keep doing that,” Belansai pleaded. His long hair was plastered to his skin from sweating. Sweat continuously trickled down John’s spine, too. He put his hands under Belansai’s ears. It kept him anchored as the mutual rhythm escalated.

Belansai put his mouth to John’s nipple and sucked hard.

John groaned and then laughed. “I’m not going to lactate for you, Belansai.”

“I wish you were,” Belansai said and looked at him through hooded eyes.

“Ibans find even male nipples erotic?” John asked.

“Very, very erotic,” Belansai said and swirled his tongue around the firming flesh before flicking across the bud repeatedly.

“That feels incredible,” John moaned and pressed his chest closer to Belansai’s eager mouth. The connecting nerve endings sent pleasurable sensations to John’s cock and balls, and he came suddenly with a cry.

Belansai hitched his breath as John’s sphincter squeezed him tightly. “John Truscott... let go...” he asked. “Too much...”

“Sorry... sorry,” John apologised and eased off his lover.

Falling down next to Belansai, he realised that the young warrior hadn’t come yet. “Do you want me to...” he indicated to Belansai’s still hard cock.

“Yes. Please,” Belansai said and folded his hands behind his head. John looked at it, and figured it couldn't be any different from when he did it to himself and quickly jerked him off. Belansai writhed exquisitely underneath him when John kissed his moist open mouth, swallowing his moans. Coordination wasn’t John’s strongest side when he was intoxicated at the same time. His arm hurt when Belansai finally came, spurting drops of semen on John’s face. Belansai laughed at him, before he licked off the splotches from John’s skin.

“Thank you,” John winced and for a while, they lay next to each other catching their breaths. Feeling sated and mellow, they traded kisses.

“Was this what you wanted?” John asked him after some time had passed.

Belansai smiled in the dark. “This was what you needed, John Truscott.”

“I fear you are right,” John said. Then he pushed Belansai on his back. “My turn.”

Belansai just laughed and spread his thighs willingly.

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The next morning, John sat on the porch to his bungalow waiting to be picked up by Mr. Bullard’s oxen ride. Fondly, he remembered what had transpired the night before. Sleeping with Belansai, sharing himself with his friend, was a gesture he couldn’t possibly regret.

John had woken up alone, but he was grateful for Belansai to have opened up his eyes. John knew it wasn’t going to be any easier when he came back to England. People of his kind would be arrested if anybody found out about his desire for male intimacy. Hopefully, that would never happen, and John would just have to suppress these urges should they ever re-emerge again. A small voice told him that he probably should have taken the Bullard’s offer to marry Cecil, but John knew he’d make the poor girl unhappy. He had made the right choice when he rejected her. Exchanging their goodbyes, John shook the governor’s hand and stepped on board the ship that would take him to Singapore.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼


End file.
